


I Won't Just Buy You a Rose

by alessandralee



Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Florists
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-18 21:07:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4720475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alessandralee/pseuds/alessandralee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Riley Matthews shows up in his flower shop, hoping for an arrangement that will impress her parents, Farkle doesn't know how attached he'll grow to her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Won't Just Buy You a Rose

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from the song "The Gambler" by fun.

Farkle’s wrapping the last of Mrs. Svorski’s poinsettias in red foil when the bell above his shop’s front door chimes.

“One minute,” he calls over his shoulder, before rushing to put that plant with the others.

Lucas is supposed to stop by later to help him drop them all off at the bakery. Whatever luck led Farkle to befriending the recent Texas transplant and owner of what Farkle thinks of as the only pickup truck in New York City, he’s certainly gratefully for it.

“What can I do for you?” Farkle asks as he steps out of his workroom and into the main part of the store.

It’s blissfully empty, in a way that rarely happens around the holidays. The only customer is a young woman about his age, dressed to fight off the cold in a paid coat with matching scarf, hat, and gloves.

She looks at him with Farkle recognizes as desperation. He’s more used to seeing it on the faces of boyfriends and husbands who have forgotten birthdays, anniversaries, or Valentines Day.

“Do you have anything that says ‘Hey mom and dad, look at how your baby girl has grown up and joined the adult world, please ignore the fact that she probably over-seasoned the chicken?’’ The woman asks, her words running together so quickly that he barely catches them.

She smiles pleadingly at him, and it’s enough to make Farkle glad that his parents are taking their annual Caribbean Christmas Cruise.

He shrugs “I’m sure I can come up with something.”

“Thank you,” she sighs. The look of relief on her face makes entire store feel more relaxed.

The cunning, business-oriented part of Farkle knows this girl would be an easy sell. He could show her the most expensive plants in his store, tell her they will make her parents see her in a new light, and she’d pull her wallet out immediately. And it’s tempting to do just that.

But there are two other sides of Farkle’s personality at play here. There’s the who knows how hard it is to make your parents see that you’re not thirteen years old anymore, and there’s the man who loves his job.

Christmas can a hard time for the man who loves his job. Everyone knows what they want, the same few flowers and plants in whatever size or quantity that fits within their budget or the square footage of their apartment.

There’s more to Christmas flowers than poinsettias and holly, he just doesn’t get the chance to show that very often.

In the end, Farkle just wants to do his job to the best of his ability, regardless of how much profit he reaps.

“Why don’t you take of your coat,” he gestures to the coatrack behind the cash register, “and I’ll show you what we have in stock. You can let me know if anything jumps out at you, and we’ll go from there. Does that work for you, Miss…”

“Matthews,” she steps forward with a hand held out to shake. “Riley Matthews.”

Her grip is firm and her gloved hand pumps his a few more times that normal.

He introduces himself as she hangs up her coat, then points out his popular stock. He’s hoping for the chance to make something a little more interesting, but it’s still better to get the basics out of the way.

“Poinsettia, Christmas cactus, Christmas rose, holly, icy,” he points to each in turn. “They’re classics. Some of them are poisonous to house pets, though. Do you have a cat, dog, bird?”

Riley shakes her head, “Not yet.” 

She examines the flowers with a critical eye, and Farkle detects a small frown. She doesn’t seem to have much of a poker face.

“These are nice,” she tells him politely, “but do you have anything more… unique?”

Farkle perks up at the question.

“I most certainly do.”

He shows Riley the area where he keeps some of his personal favorites. Given the season, there’s a lot of red and green, and blue and white. Most of the time it’s a little more varied, but very few people want yellow or purple in December.

“Yes,” Riley exclaims. “This is what I meant. These are gorgeous.”

Farkle beams with pride, “Anything in particular?”

“The dangly ones,” Riley points to the amaranth, “and the ball-shaped.” She cups her hands to indicate the hydrangea.

Farkle grabs a few of each, the cogs in his head already spinning, “Anything else?”

Riley shakes her head, “You’re the expert. Just make sure it’s colorful/”

Excellent. Riley has a good eye, but he appreciates the opportunity to call the shots.

“This should take me a half an hour, maybe 45 minutes,” he tells her. “Do you want to come back?”

“Can I watch?” Riley asks enthusiastically. “That is unless you think I’d get in the way.”

“Definitely not,” Farkle assures her.

He pulls an extra stool up to his worktable for Riley to sit at. They alternate him telling he about the flowers he’s using (what they’re called, where they’re from, how he gets them) and her telling him about her job.

She’s a journalist for a local news site. She hates that people call her stories puff pieces instead of human-interest stories. She loves what she writes, though. There are so many terrible things going on the world, and it’s certainly important to notice them and advocate for change. But it’s also important to remember the good things, like friendly neighbors, family traditions, and helping hands.

Every now and then Farkle has to get up to help a new customer, but Riley waits patiently and always remembers where they left off in their conversation.

Farkle actually feels a little sad when he’s ringing up her arrangement and the small ivy wreath she grabs at the last minute.

He should ask her out for dinner. If Lucas were here, he’d glare at Farkle over Riley’s shoulder until he did. But he’s not, and Farkle only works up the courage to pull a sprig of mistletoe out from behind the register and make a joke about it before throwing it in with Riley’s purchases.

She laughs and blushes a little, insisting she has no need for it. She’s only spending the holidays with her family.

She thanks him one last time before leaving.

Farkle spends the rest of the night beating himself up for not asking her out. He even considers trying to track her down using her credit card information.

He could, but he doesn’t. That would be immoral, and totally weird.

Farkle agrees to spend Christmas with Lucas’s family, who are up visiting from Austin. When Mrs. Friar complains about the size of the kitchen in her son’s shoebox apartment, Farkle offers her the use of his.

He’s nervous, but everyone’s too polite to ask how a mildly successful florist manages to afford such a nice apartment in a city as expensive as New York.

(Farkle’s a trust-fund kind. He’s also really smart. As soon as he turned 18, he made a number of investments that have netted him more than enough to live off of for a long time. The flower shop is a labor of love.)

On December 26th Farkle is back in his shop. He’s designing a New Years order for a local restaurant and he’s so absorbed in his work that he completely misses the ring of the doorbell.

The sound of a tray being laid on his worktable jolts him out of his thoughts and straight into Riley’s warm brown eyes.

“Hi,” she greets him. “I brought you cookies.”

The cookies in question are heavily frosted, but that fails to cover all the burnt patches.

He couldn’t care less; he’s just overjoyed to see Riley again.

“You know you don’t have to do that, right?” he asks. “I gave you goods and services, you have me money. We’re square.”

“I know,” Riley replies. “I just wanted to. Also I wanted to ask you about your plans for New Years Eve.”

“Yes,” Farkle replies immediately.

“I haven’t even given you the details,” Riley laughs.

“It’s got to be better than watching the ball drop alone in my apartment,” Farkle admits.

Riley tells him that her uncle Josh is having a party. He’s only a few years older than her, though, so it’ll be people their age. Farkle thinks that’s kind of weird, but it’s not like he has a normal family either.

He’s a little disappointed when he realizes that Riley’s inviting him to join her and her best friend, but he gets over it quickly.

New Year’s Eve is a blast. Farkle worried about being overdressed, but the jeans/dress shirt/blazer combination turns out to be the perfect way to go.

At first Riley’s roommate Maya scares the hell out of Farkle, but she grows on him. He sits next to her when he gets tired of trying to dance (Riley never stops). She’s clearly pining over Josh, but it seems complicated, and Farkle thinks she’ll bite his head off if he comments. So he keeps his thoughts to himself.

Riley pulls both him and Maya out onto the dance floor when the countdown begins. They spill cheap champagne on the floor, but if Riley isn’t worried, then he isn’t either. When the clock strikes twelve Riley presses sloppy kisses first to Maya’s cheek and then to Farkle’s.

It’s the best New Years he’s ever had.

Riley starts stopping by the store with increasing frequency. First it’s to buy flowers to celebrate Maya’s first major gallery show, then she just comes when she’s in the neighborhood.

Farkle introduces Riley and Maya to Lucas. At first he thinks Riley might be interested in Lucas, but then he questions her basketball knowledge. She schools him, quoting statistics like an almanac. Maya cackles, and they all settle into a comfortable friendship.

They spend their time doing quiz nights and movie marathons and day trips out of the city.

Farkle decides not to ask Riley out. Everything is too perfect right now; he doesn’t want to risk it.

He almost changes his mind on Valentines Day, when Riley shows up at his apartment to complain about how her date bought her five-dollar carnations from the grocery store.

He consoles her with a rainbow of the roses leftover at the shop. 

Maya looks at him knowingly the next time they all go out for dinner.

After Riley writes an article about him for her job, Farkle’s Mother’s Day sales are poised to eclipse all the previous holidays.

Riley and Maya pitch in to help him fill orders (Maya has to be bribed with a free bouquet, but she picks cheap flowers) and Lucas stops by after class.

No one sleeps, and by the time the store closes on Sunday, they’re all zombies.

Lucas offers to drive everyone home, but only Maya takes him up on it. Riley sticks around to help Farkle clean. They give up after 30 minutes and go for coffee.

“Do you do a lot of business for Fathers Day?” Riley asks.

“More than regular days, but less than other holidays,” he explains. “But Memorial Day is pretty big.”

They’re too tired to have a real conversation, so mostly they just eavesdrop on the other customers. The teenagers around them are having particularly dramatic conversations.

“Do you remember being like that?” Riley nods in the direction of a table full of middle school kids.

“I was never like that,” Farkle tells her. He was chatty, but never in a way that other kids appreciated. So mostly he was a loner, up until college. But he doesn’t really keep in touch with those friends either; they’re so spread out around the country.

“I was,” Riley admits. “Every little thing felt like it was the end of the world.”

Even with his anti-social tendencies, Farkle can relate to that.

“I was so naïve,” Riley continues, playing with the ties on her shirt. “I thought I was going to be like my parents, falling in love and marrying the first boy I ever had a crush on.”

“I assume that didn’t work out?” Farkle asks.

“I don’t even think he knew. Maya wanted me to ask him out, but I refused. I totally bought into that whole ‘the guy has to ask’ mindset.”

At this point, Riley’s more focused on her empty coffee cup than on him, and she’s fidgeting enough that he’s worried she’ll jump out of her skin.

“And now?” Farkle asks, hoping he’s reading the signs right and that this conversation is going where he thinks it’s going.

“And now I’m wondering if you want get dinner sometimes. Just the two of us. A date.”

She smiles nervously at him from across the table. He’s almost too excited to answer.

“Yes,” he says, loudly enough to attract attention from the teens at the next table. “I mean yes,” he whispers, “I would love to go out on a date with you, sometime when we are not over-tired and hopped up on caffeine.”

Riley giggles, and asks him to walk her home.

When they get there, Farkle ignores the feeling that Maya is definitely watching them through the peephole in the door.

“So are you free Friday?” he asks.

He wants to ask about tomorrow, or even tonight, after he’s snuck in a nap and a shower. But he remembers Maya saying that short notice on dates means a guy considers you a last resort.

Riley’s definitely not a last resort.

“Dinner and a movie?” Riley counters.

“Sounds great.”

She rises to her toes and kisses him on the cheek, which prompts a loud groan from the other side of her door.

“I’m not doing more than that with you spying,” Riley yells over her shoulder. To him she says, “I promise she won’t be here Friday.”

Farkles takes this as his queue to leave.


End file.
